Back Sacred and Profane Save as PDF
Chapters (35)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. About the Author
  32. PRAISE FOR FAYE KELLERMANand herPETER DECKER ANDRINA LAZARUS NOVELS
  33. Other Books byFaye Kellerman
  34. Copyright
  35. About the Publisher

“I had some gambling debts, so I moonlighted to keep from going under. But I’ll tell you this much. It was all legit stuff. All the chickies I shot were over eighteen, so the most you can accuse me of is bad taste. I’m not proud of it, but it kept my head above water, and we all gotta make a living, right?”

“Who’s the girl?” Decker said, pointing to the Countess again.

“Beats me. I don’t remember photographing her.”

“How could you forget these teeth?”

“I’m saying I don’t know her.”

Bastard was hiding something. Decker showed him Lindsey Bates.

“How about this one?” he asked.

Pode barely glanced at the photo. Decker thought he saw a flicker of recognition in the wary eyes, but it faded so quickly it was hard to be sure.

“Nope. No way!” Pode shook his head emphatically. “This girl isn’t more than sixteen, and like I told you, I only did legal stuff.”

“Right, Pode. You’re Joe Citizen.” Decker shoved the photo under his nose. “Take another look.”

“I don’t know her,” Pode insisted.

“Who peddles the kiddy stuff?” Decker pressed.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m getting really pissed off, Cecil,” Decker said.

Pode began to breathe heavily.

“Try a pimp named Johnson—Wilmington Johnson. He goes in for young girls.”

“Who else?”

“That’s it.”

He hadn’t mentioned Clementine, which meant that Clementine was the biggie and Johnson was a throwaway.

“Where does Johnson hang out?”

“Hollywood. Where else?”

“Where in Hollywood, Pode?”

“Golden Dreams Motel. Sunset near Highland. He gets the runaways and the little kids, sells ’em on the street.”

“And photographs them?”

“Maybe,” Pode said. His mustache quivered.

“How’s your son, Cecil?”

The question threw him.

“Which one?”

“Dustin. How’s he doing in the investment business?”

“Uh, fine. Fine enough that he doesn’t come around here borrowing money. Bought himself a Porsche and a condo in the Marina. Boy has a nose for a deal.”

“So why don’t you invest with him? This place sure could use an overhaul.”

“I’ve got a couple of bucks in his projects,” said Pode guardedly.

“Tell me about the Countess.”

The man’s eyes darted about.

“Uh…who?”

“The Countess. People say you know her.”

“Then people are full of it. Look, what do you want? If you’re going to batter me with questions, I want to call a—”

“Where does Dustin work?”

Pode broke into a smile. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to confuse me.”

“Where does he work?”

“Century City, in a big high-rise on Avenue of the Stars. Got some spare cash you want invested, Sergeant?”

“Johnson,” Decker said. “How well do you know him?”

“I don’t know him at all. I’ve just heard rumors that Johnson specializes in tender meat.”

“Who’d you hear these rumors from?”